


Let's call it hope

by thefrog (larana)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Goodbyes, Kabby, Love Confessions, Separation, flangst, missing moment, post 4x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larana/pseuds/thefrog
Summary: “May we meet again.”I hope so, it's the first thing that pops up in his mind, but it won't be the one he’s going to say. Abby needs certainty. Abby needs something to hope for.“We will,” he replies, sealing his promise with a soft, long kiss on her mouth.It's never easy to say goodbye.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love so much these two to the point that I felt the urge to write something about them. Why I did it in english it's a big mistery to me, too.  
> Speaking of, I must thank my precious bae Luna for her great beta-reading job, so, thank you sooo much, my dearest one!
> 
> Enjoy!

When he used to dream about the Earth, it didn’t look like that.

It was empty, wild. Just a huge spot of green. Not even close to all those pictures he used to look at for hours when he was a child, pictures of cities and buildings, roads and cars and trains, green parks and people sitting on their picnic blanket. 

But it isn't. It's not empty and not even as wild as he thought. There's still life, on this wrecked planet. Something that looks like his old pictures. There are still cities and people - now, thanks to them, there are even rovers. He can't help but thinking about it while he goes near the window and gazes upon the night sky. Glowing slightly, what remains of the Ark almost winks at him, as if it's trying to say  _ well done _ . He can't still deal with this new bottom up perspective; even if he’s been on the Earth for a few months, there's a part of him that keeps believing that is just a big, very realistic dream. 

And it could really be. Because  _ she _ is also here and this is really something he never thought about, not even for a second. 

Because when he used to dream about the Earth, he was always alone; Marcus Kane has never been a great fan of romantic love and the number of his relationships doesn't even fill the fingers of a single hand. He has always been too busy to think about it, too independent, too focused on keeping everybody alive on the Ark. 

But now, here she is. 

Abby Griffin has gotten into him and he doesn't even know how it could have happened, or how he let that happened. He never liked the passionate, sincere, impulsive doctor Abigail Griffin because he always found a fault in all those traits that everybody else loved. He remembers very well the life on the Ark and how Abby used to do everything she wanted without even thinking about the consequences, regardless of their rules. He remembers he used to hate her for that. Now it's impossible for him to hate anything about her. Not when he has totally fallen for her. Kane doesn't know whether that's love or not; he just knows that there's something hitching in his chest every time she walks away from him, something burning every time any other man get too close to her. 

_ You don't really have time for this _ , a voice says in his head, almost mocking him. The point is, he  _ actually _ doesn't have time to deal with these feelings, but he can't help but think about them, even and especially when he definitely should not. And he tries. He tries hard to stay focused on his tasks as ambassador and keep all the thirteen clans together and he often succeeded. But then there are moments like this, empty moments when his mind goes out of his control and takes its own paths. For some reason, they all lead to her. 

His mind always finds its way back to her.

Just like Abby finds her way back to him. 

As if to confirm his own thoughts, someone knocks gently on his door. No, not  _ someone _ .

"Come in."

Abby is beautiful in the pale light of the candles. She is beautiful as she approaches him and she is  _ incredibly _ beautiful when she stops in front of him and smiles a little.

“I’ve never liked goodbyes.”

“It’s not a goodbye,” he breathes, brushing her hair away from her bare chest. “Not yet. Plus, you are just going back to Arkadia. It’s not that far. You can come here every time you need--- to.”

_ Me _ . He was going to say  _ me _ . He doesn't know why he bits that back. Maybe it’s because of that part of him that’s still struggling to deal with all of that - the Earth, the grounders, Abby - or maybe it's because he doesn't want to face the possibility that she doesn't actually need him.

Abby cups his cheek in her hand and rubs slightly her thumb against his beard. As always, she doesn't need any other words. She doesn't need him to explain. It’s something that came with their new relationship and Marcus actually likes it, not because he’s afraid to talk, but because often he doesn't even know what he is supposed to say. Abby is able to read him in a way that nobody ever could.

“I wish I could,” she whispers, bitterness totally clear in her voice, because they both know that it’s not so easy, she can’t just come back whenever she needs or wants to. Also, the entire radiations thing will require her presence and medical skills around the clock. If Alie is right, the planet will become unsurvivable in six months, but every one of them is smart enough to know that the first symptoms will start long before. All of that is quite clear on both their faces, on the gazes they are giving to each other. 

It seems there’s nothing more to say, so he leans forward and kisses her. He is trying with all his might not to kiss her goodbye, but when he closes his eyes, he just sees Abby walking away from Polis,  _ from him _ without no certainty of meeting each other again. The Earth is a place of death: he can’t forget that not even for a second, not even if he tries to. Letting Abby go out there, away from him, seems the most difficult thing he has ever done in his life.

“Marcus,” she calls him, under her voice.  _ Stop thinking _ , she seems to be saying,  _ stop thinking and wish me a proper goodbye _ .

So he does.

So he places his hands on her back, pushes her toward the bed and  _ he does _ .

  
  
  


The pale dawn light is climbing the sky, enlightening its dark, nightly colours.

Abby is still sleeping on his chest, her messy hair spilled across the skin of his neck and shoulders. Marcus let his fingers run through it gently, careful not to awake her. It’s almost time though, and she is going to open her eyes. He knows it from her increasingly rapid breathing . Marcus wants to freeze this moment, this feeling of her body against his, the heat, the pulse of her heart, the smell of her hair and skin - he wants to freeze all of it his memory so that he can pick it up when he will miss her too much. 

He can't help but leaning forward and gently kiss the top of her head when she stops breathing for a single moment before she opens her sleepy eyes. 

“What-”

“It’s almost dawn,” Marcus says softly, stealing a kiss from her mouth. It's almost time. It’s almost a goodbye. 

Abby gives him a little, cloudy smile then she sits up and gets dressed, one cloth at time, slowly, as if she wasn’t in a hurry at all. As if she was not going to go away. As if she was sure that they will meet again.

He feels the urge to say something, something she can carry with her, some reassurance, a compliment, an advice, anything, but what comes out from his mouth is totally surprising.

“I love you.”

Abby stops in the middle of  a movement. She doesn't turn around and her back has gotten stiff, as if he had just pushed a knife in it. 

Was it a mistake? Was he supposed to keep quite? What has he done?

“Abby-”

“Do you remember when I told you that maybe we didn't deserve to live because of all the things we had done?”

What a weird question.

“I do.”

“I was wrong. We do because we got a new chance to live.” 

Marcus has no idea what that is supposed to mean. It could sound like an enigmatic love declaration, but he isn’t sure at all. It's Abby  after all: he has never been able to anticipate her or her thoughts. 

“Marcus,” she says finally turning around and placing a hand on his cheek. The smile on her lips is the same she had while he noticed her bare neck without the necklace around it.  He doesn't need Abby to speak: he can read what is written all over her face. For some reason, it’s not as good as he thinks. That new consciousness is sharpening their separation.

“Be careful,” he almost prays, burying his nose into her messy hair and pressing some kisses on the warm, soft skin of her shoulder. Abby’s fingers reach for his hair.

“You too.”

The sun is floating on the horizon, now, and a ray of his cold light is lighting up blonde streaks in Abby’s hair. Marcus follows that light with the tip of his finger.

Their time is over.

 

When he used to dream about the Earth, it wasn't like that. It was empty and he was alone. He didn't even know the sharp pain of a separation.

But there it is.

It stings as if a spear touched his heart, leaving a single wound and a thin line of blood. He gulps and gulps, but there’s a firm knot at the bottom of his throat that makes him not trust his own voice. So he tries to smile, but even that feels fake. He can't be like that. He  _ needs _ not to be like that. Not for the first time, it looks that Abby is sharing his own emotions, but she must be more confident because she does a way better smile than his and her voice is steady when she says, “May we meet again.”

_ I hope so _ , it's the first thing that pops up in his mind, but it won't be the one he’s going to say. Abby needs certainty. Abby needs something to hope for.

“We will,” he replies, sealing his promise with a soft, long kiss on her mouth. Abby’s hand is strong around his waist and he already knows that It's going to be that gesture the one he will remember better, more than kisses or making love. 

The next moment, somehow, Abby is already far from him. Jackson walks next to her and he’s saying something to cheer her up, Marcus can say that by the way Abby turns her head around.  

The last thing he sees is a glimpse of her swinging ponytail that, for some reason, makes him smile. He feels like a teenager because he’s  _ already _ missing her, but now, just next to that feeling, there’s another one, smoother and warmer, that makes him feel good and brings him back to his memory something that now sounds like a promise.

_ Let’s call it hope. _

  
  



End file.
